


Kill Our Way to Heaven

by monkeik



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: Fake AH Crew, Immortal Fake AH Crew, Other, Self-Harm, Suicidal Thoughts, will add stuff as I go
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-09
Updated: 2016-06-11
Packaged: 2018-07-14 01:05:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,884
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7145792
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/monkeik/pseuds/monkeik
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>=In which Izayah sucks at summaries=</p><p>The voices continued to yell, but it was almost like she wasn't hearing it, she couldn't understand the words.<br/>Her body seemed to be itching, almost as if the itching feeling was trying to sway her into action.<br/>Was she shaking? She felt as if she was shaking, she wasn't sure.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Chapter One:  
Her skin felt like it was burning.  
She didn't want to be here.  
She hated being here.  
That morning she'd been dragged out of bed, and told they were having a day out.  
She'd known better than to argue with her mother.  
Mother knows best after all.  
Everything was too hot.  
They entered the bank together.  
Victoria could feel her skin crawling, something was wrong.  
Moments later, there was yelling.  
It felt as if the world had erupted around her, there was a hand in her hair, or rather, not her hair, a hand in her wig.  
The voices continued to yell, but it was almost like she wasn't hearing it, she couldn't understand the words.  
Her body seemed to be itching, almost as if the itching feeling was trying to sway her into action.  
Was she shaking? She felt as if she was shaking, she wasn't sure.  
There was also the feeling of a gun against the side of her head, forcing her to remain in this unknowns grasp.  
Her mothers scared gaze is there, always scared, always concerned.  
The colours around her are blurred, an she hates the fact that all she can hear is screaming and screaming and screaming.  
She's sure no one is screaming, but it's all she can hear.  
The smell of blood is like rust in the air, and she can't seem to recall anyone being shot, or why anyone might be bleeding, much less allow herself to see anything beyond the carpet before her eyes.  
She decides she won't be a good little hostage, the itch in her bones is too much, the fire under her skin wants her to move.  
Victoria twists around, the wig comes free, still in her keepers hand, she kicks at his knees as her hand goes for his wrist, she isn't quite sure how the gun ends up within her own grasp, but the screaming is louder and more intense than before, and she almost screams with the voices.  
She fights against it.  
She doesn't see a face when she looks up, just a leering black skull, the gun is still in her hand, and she can't see his face, why can't she see his face?  
Her hand raised and she points the gun at the leering skull, her hand is steady but she feels like she should be shaking with the amount of heat in her body, she hates this, she hates this so much, why her.  
She doesn't know what she's doing when she clicks the safety off, she hadn't known she'd known how to do that, she shoots, and the sound of the gun firing makes the screaming in her head fall silent, the ringing in her ears replacing it.  
Victoria can't possibly hear the sound of a body hitting the floor, blood soaking into the wig that remains in gloved grasp.  
She can taste rust in her mouth.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two:  
The memory is hazy, like gazing at it through water.  
He feels cold.  
He's used to it of course, he'd died many times, and to people stronger than the mere girl who had killed him this time.  
He can remember the way his skin had felt cold as he entered the bank, as if a strong wind were fighting to move him.  
Feeling cold is usually a sign, but he ignores it, the death doesn't matter, it never does.  
When his hand twists into soft brown hair, and hair is soft, but not quite right, and when his hand feels like ice, there's a tremor of surprise running through him.  
The girl under his hand seems to shake, his hand feels like ice, but from what he can feel of her, she feels like fire.  
And that's why when she twists around, her hair staying in his hand, he doesn't react fast enough, this wisp of a girl, daring to attack him?  
It feels like a lifetime as her impassive face stares him down, gun in hand, aimed at his face.  
The click of the gun.  
It had hurt of course, he didn't remember anything after being shot.  
He's told that the others dragged him out.  
They couldn't just leave his body behind.  
He wishes they hadn't shot out the cameras on entering the building, he wants to see that cold impassive face one more time, understand how it could have taken him by surprise.  
He's supposed to be the Vagabond, not someone so easily taken down by a mere girl.  
Ryan's head rings with the recentness of the death, he's still in the penthouse, content to allow Jack to mother him.  
Finally, after a long time of silence, he speaks, 'What was your first kill like, Jack?'  
Jack looks surprised, almost flustered, 'Uh, it was a long time ago, I don't really remember it.'  
'I remember mine.' says Ryan.  
'My first kill was with you guys,' Gavin pipes in, he looks ridiculous in his fluffy blue pj bottoms, a warm cup held in his hands, 'The first time we robbed a bank together.'  
'You were puking for days afterwards,' muses Jack, ruffling Gavin's hair as the younger squawks indignantly.  
Geoff strolls into the room, giving Ryan an unimpressed look, 'We'd better start planning the next heist early since Ryan botched that one up, the police hadn't even arrived yet and you still managed to get yourself killed.'  
Ray and Michael enter the room together, Michael pokes his tongue out at Ryan as he passes.  
Ray simply looks bored, DS in hand.  
Ryan sighs and stares out the window as his crew plan their heist.

=======================================

The fire had soothed.  
She didn't feel as if her inside was going to burn away.  
Her hands still shook, she had been puking.  
She couldn't keep anything down.  
It had been two days since she had killed a man.  
Victoria had been struggling to sleep, torn between reasoning that he hadn't been a good man, and that maybe the man had a family, maybe she had made someone wait for him to come home, made them realize he never would.  
She was torn between hating herself, and trying to sooth herself.  
The gun had been taken from her as soon as the police had arrived, she'd almost been arrested.  
But the body wasn't there.  
It was like she hadn't really shot anyone.  
But she knew she had.  
She gazed down at her bare arms, the sight made her angry.  
She hated seeing them.  
She'd seen others, people more damaged, their arms laced with scars, some delicate, some thick and standing out of the surrounding skin.  
No matter how deep she cut, it never scarred, it never stayed,  
She went to sleep stained in blood, wrists bleeding out, and woke up with smooth skin and stained pillows.  
A lazy fire starts to spread through her bones with her anger, she wants to scream so bad, but she must remain silent.  
She has to remain silent.  
Victoria must be seen not heard, and at times, not even seen.  
The red haired girl wishes she could have held onto the gun, just to see, just to see if perhaps it would leave something permanent.  
As the fire runs through her, as she feels close to wanting to tear her way out of her skin, Victoria wishes she could feel peaceful for once.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three  
She felt cold as she gazed into blue eyes.  
It had probably been a bad idea to return to that same bank.  
Not that she expected that same group would rob the bank again, it was stupid of them, why hit the same bank twice within a week?  
The man in the skull mask seemed to hesitate at the sight of her, as if he couldn't believe she was there, too.  
Then he raised his gun, aimed straight at her, and shot.  
There was screams, the air seemed to ring.  
Everything faded out, and Victoria's last thought was of how cold it was.

================================================

'What was that, Ryan?' Michael was yelling in his ear, 'We just needed to get in, get the money and get out, and you go and shoot some bitch!'  
Ryan was still staring at the girl, the fire still raced through his veins, he felt like he needed to stop to draw in a deep breath, he wasn't getting enough air.  
He'd killed plenty of times before, it'd never felt like this.  
Then there were hands on his back, forcing him to move.  
He was rushed out of the bank, from what he could tell, it had been a success this time, now all they had to do was escape the police.  
But out of the corner of his eyes, he saw the girls head raise, pale green eyes staring after him.  
He couldn't bring himself to speak as he was pushed into one of the getaway vehicles, then they were speeding through the streets. Michael was yelling as he leaned out the window to shoot at the police on their heels.  
'That girl,' Ryan finally speaks up.  
'What about her?' grunts Michael, continuing to fire back at the police.  
'She's like us, I saw her wake up after I shot her in the head.'  
At this, Michael almost dropped his gun, the car swerved as Jack glanced over her shoulder at him.  
'You're sure?' asked Jack.  
'Not entirely,' Ryan was finally starting to shake himself out of his stupor, 'I'll track her down, find out for sure.'  
A van went speeding by them, Ryan heard Ray let out a loud whooping noise, he was leaning out the window of the other van, pink gun in hand, Gavin was leaning out the other side of said van while Geoff drove.  
'We need to split up,' barked Geoff through the headpieces they were wearing, 'Spread the heat.'  
'Aight,' Jack split off down a side road, 'I have a safe house in mind.'  
Ryan drew in a deep breath, and tried to focus, moving his thoughts away from the girl, he withdrew his gun and leaned out the window to join Michael in firing at their chasers.  
-  
It took them the rest of the day to lose the police following them, Jack sighed in relief as they pulled up to the safe house.  
Ryan immediately claimed one of the bedrooms that had it's own bathroom, heading straight into the shower.  
His hair was slightly knotted, due to being tied up under his mask all day he assumed.  
He had been considering getting a haircut, his hair was just reaching past his shoulders now.  
The heat of the shower was relaxing compared to the fire that usually rushed through him when he was about to kill.  
He didn't know how the others could stand that.  
The heat was almost unbearable, a constant reminder that he was indeed a killer, that he killed.  
Ryan stepped out of the shower, using a towel to dry his hair, the quicker it was dry, the quicker he could return his mask to his face.  
None of the others had seen his face, it'd been a long time since anyone had seen his face.  
He drew in a deep breath as he slipped his jacket on, he'd need Gavin's help no doubt to track down the female, he didn't even know her name.


End file.
